By pressing her face to the pane, she could see the whole of the Taggart Building, its lines converging abruptly to its distant pinnacle in the sky.

At the top, she saw a narrow hallway, its walls converging to an unlighted door.

Once, when she was sixteen, looking at a long stretch of Taggart track, at the rails that converged-like the lines of a skyscraper-to a single point in the distance, she had told Eddie Willers that she had always felt as if the rails were held in the hand of a man beyond the horizon-no, not her father or any of the men in the office-and some day she would meet him.